


See You Around

by AlexKingOfTheDamned, swimsalot



Series: Shieldhawk Stuff and Things [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adoption, Children's Hospital, Christmas Fluff, Costume Parties & Masquerades, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:25:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexKingOfTheDamned/pseuds/AlexKingOfTheDamned, https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimsalot/pseuds/swimsalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While visiting sick children for the holidays, Clint makes a very powerful connection</p>
            </blockquote>





	See You Around

Clint crosses his arms, nose wrinkling in disgust at the offending garment laid out on his bed. They can't really expect him to wear this thing. Tony has to be joking. He's seen everyone else's outfits and none of them were this bad. He can't wear this, he'll be a laughingstock. There's no way they can really expect him to put on this... thing. This green and red and white striped monstrosity. He won't do it. Never.

 

It’s not like anyone will notice if he isn't there. He's not the most visible Avenger. The kids won't care if he isn't around. The sick kids. The sick kids they're supposed to be visiting and bringing good cheer to. Not that he cares. He doesn't even like kids. Much.

 

“Fuck.” the archer curses softly, grabbing the costume. He'll put it on and see how it looks. That's all. If it's that bad he'll take it off and refuse to go.

 

It's that bad.

 

Worse, he thinks looking at himself in the mirror. The stupid candy cane tights keep riding up his butt crack and they make his legs look thicker and more muscular than ever. If that weren't bad enough the green tunic he has to wear covers his arms with tight polyester that leaves almost no room for air. He's already too hot and too restricted and he looks like and _idiot_ , even without the bell shoes and stupid elf ears.

 

“I fucking hate Christmas.” he grumbles, turning to fall face first onto the bed.

 

He only grumbles a little when there’s a knock at the door. Maybe if he’s quiet they’ll go away. When there’s a second knock, he throws his stupid pointy hat at the door. The bell chimes as it hits the wood and then rings again when it lands on the floor.

 

“Clint?” the archer sighs at the sound of his lover’s voice. “Are you okay in there? Can I come in?”

 

"No," Clint shouts back at Steve, not even bothering to raise his head. "I'm staying here to die of shame alone, thanks. You and the others go be worthwhile citizens without me,"

 

He sighs and rolls over onto his side. He's worn worse than this in the past, why is he so embarrassed now?

 

He knows the answer to that. He’s standing right outside the door. There's no way he can be seen like this now, not when he's finally got something good going. He'd rather die than be seen like this now.

 

“Clint,” Steve sighs, resting his forehead on the door. “Please. We all look ridiculous. This is good publicity. You can’t just not show up. You’ll be penned as the hero who doesn’t care about sick and dying children.”

 

Clint can't help but laugh at that. "No one will even notice. I'm the invisible hero, especially with you and Tony and Thor there to steal the spotlight. I am NOT going out in this thing."

 

Steve frowns deeply. “I feel just as ridiculous as you do, Clint. But this isn’t about you. This isn’t about me, either. This is about the children. We have to swallow our pride. Did you even _see_ Natasha? She’s in a floor-length red dress with an apron and fur around the edges. Tony decked the halls on his suit, he’s bedecked with rainbow Christmas lights. I’m wearing a dress, Clint!”

 

With sigh Clint drags himself off his bed and opens the door a crack to peak out at Steve.

 

He looks great. Even in the white dress he looks perfect. Tony had the angel wings commissioned by some super famous designer and they ended up being made out of thousands of real tiny feathers painted with gold metallic paint that shines in the light and match his stupid perfect halo, golden braided belt and golden roman sandals. Steve himself is practically glowing thanks to the weird inner light he possesses that seems to turn on whenever he's feeling particularly righteous.

 

"You look amazing," Clint says sadly. Steve the angel, its all too fitting and serves as yet another reminder of how far he still has to go to be worthy of someone as amazing as Steve Rogers.

 

“If by amazing you mean overblown and silly then yes,” Steve grabs the door before Clint can sullenly close it again. “Come on. Let me look at you.”

 

Clint can’t ever refuse Steve anything. He lets the door fall open and he falls to the edge of the bed, the tights once more climbing up his butt.

 

Steve sucks his lower lip into his mouth as he looks him over. It’s all very, very tight, and the sleeves look uncomfortable even from where Steve stands. He crosses his arms as he looks him over.

 

“Hold on,” he disappears into Clint’s bathroom. He lives in Clint’s room in the tower almost as much as Clint lives in his, and he knows he left his snipping scissors in there that he uses to fix his hair when it’s too unruly to be combed.

 

He emerges again and sits on the bed beside Clint. “I’ve got an idea,” he smiles.

 

With a few careful snips, he removes the majority of the very tight green sleeves. He snips it off at the decorative bulge at the shoulder, leaving the red ribbon intact there, and then snips it at the wrist, leaving the red and white striped cuffs behind. He winds up looking more like a Chippendales dancer than a charity elf by the end of it, but Clint looks infinitely more comfortable.

 

"You've made me into a stripper," Clint laughs, looking at himself in the mirror. He feels better though and he turns to give Steve a quick kiss. "Thanks. I guess I have to go now huh?"

 

“I won’t let you stay behind,” Steve lifts the hat off the ground and settles it on Clint’s head, tilting it back to expose his face and fake ears. “We need you. The Avengers is nothing without its star elf.” He grins and pokes the tip of his thumb into Clint’s nose.

 

"If Tony makes one Legolas joke I'll kill him. With Santa's sack of toys. In front of the children." Clint warns, tugging on the bell shoes.

 

He looks in the mirror again and adjusts the hat a little so it's tilted at an angle, letting a little of his spiky blond hair peak out. It's not much better but at least he doesn't look bald.

 

"Okay, okay I'm ready," he says finally. "Lead the way."

 

When the group is all assembled, Clint feels a little bit less strange.

 

Natasha really is wearing a giant dress with a gingerbread-man printed apron around her waist and fur around the bottom of the skirt and the edges of the giant bell sleeves. She glowers through wire-framed owlish glasses and blows a lock of stiff, white-painted hair out of her face.

 

Thor is wearing a giant Santa outfit, complete with a lumpy bag thrown over his shoulder. The costume director apparently didn’t think it was worth it to try and make Thor’s hair or beard white, and focused their efforts instead on his monstrous boots.

 

Tony’s signature Iron Man suit has been painted in red and green with some kind of filigree on his shoulders and the top of his helmet to make it look like he’s been dusted with snow, and he’s wrapped from neck to ankles in bright rainbow lights.

 

Bruce is wearing an ugly Christmas sweater and red bow tie, with a pair of antlers on his head and a light-up red nose wedged onto his. He’s the least decked out of all of them, but that probably has to do with the fact that when they tried to get him in the full reindeer getup, he started to get stressed out and they gave up before he became the Hulk who stole Christmas.

 

Steve re-adjusts the gold halo on his head and makes sure the layers of his silky white robe are settled right beneath the braided gold belt around his hips. He smiles down at Clint, and tries really hard not to laugh at the sight of them all Christmassed.

 

"One word Tony," he warns, before the billionaire can say anything. "One word and I strangle you with those Christmas lights."

 

He doesn't wait for Tony's reply and instead busies himself making sure Steve's wings are straight before the cars arrive to drive them all off to the hospital.

 

Steve has a little trouble getting into the car with his wings, and ends up needing to sit on the floor of the vehicle so the custom feathers don’t get ruffled. He’s been assured that every feather has been painstakingly sewn in place so that the whole thing isn’t very delicate, but he’s still nervous. He wants to be perfect for the kids. This is their whole Christmas, the poor bedridden things.

 

Steve, Clint and Tasha pile in one car while Thor and Bruce get in the other, the third seat taken up by Thor’s giant bag, and Tony follows above them, occasionally having to hover to let the cars catch up because his repulsors move him too fast.

 

The hospital is well decorated with Christmas ivy and frosted windows, glass candy canes and ornaments dangling from the ceiling. A nurse with a tired face but warm smile greets them, her scrubs slightly askew.

 

“I’m Heather,” she greets with a smile, shaking some loose brown hair out of her face and adjusting her uniform. “I’ll be escorting you to the childrens’ wings. If you have any questions, I – uhh…” she gets distracted by the view of Clint’s bare arms before clearing her throat. “If you have any questions, I’ll be happy to answer them.”

 

“We’re very happy to be here,” Steve says with a smile, correcting the angle of his halo again. The band they gave him was just barely half an inch too big.

 

“I’ve got these baskets the hospital prepared,” Heather takes two baskets from the front counter, hands one to Clint and one to Natasha. Clint’s is full of dozens of different-colored candy canes, and Natasha’s is filled with miniature gingerbread men. “The children are allowed one of each. The candy canes are all peppermint, so you can just let them pick by their favorite color.”

 

Clint waits until she turns her back before slipping a purple candy cane into the comically large pocket sewn onto his tunic. He looks up to catch Steve watching him and shoots his lover a cocky smile.

 

"If I have to dress like a deranged cartoon character I'm at least getting some candy out of it," he says, falling into step beside the angel. "If we start running out I'll put it back I promise."

 

Steve shakes his head with a laugh. “Alright. As long as you’ll put it back if we run out.”

 

The group are led into the elevator, with Steve and Thor standing at the back so their oversized props take up as little space as possible. When the doors open on the wrong floor and a small group of nurses are faced with the sight of the Avengers Christmassed to hell, they smile awkwardly and say they’ll catch the next one.

 

"We're going to end up all over the internet." Clint says when the doors close again. "I'm going to be haunted by this outfit for the rest of my life I just know it."

 

"It's for the kids." Steve reminds him, placing a comforting hand on Clint's shoulder. The archer shoots him a quick grimace but doesn't pull away, choosing instead to share a miserable look with Tasha.

 

The doors finally open on the right floor and they all scramble out to make room for Thor, the real star of the show, before following him into the big common room where the healthier kids are gathered together for the Christmas party.

 

Heather goes in first to remind them not to scream, and not to crowd the Avengers, that each and every one of them will get a chance to meet with them. The kids are all tittering, and Steve looks like he might actually burst from excitement.

 

She comes back out with a smile and gestures around the corner. “They’re waiting for you,” she says. “I’ll stay out here in the lobby area if any of you need me.”

 

Steve smiles at Clint and reaches over to squeeze his hand as they follow Thor into the room. The children don’t scream, but they definitely start bouncing in their seats and shouting with glee and pointing.

 

“It’s Santa!” they shout. “Thor is Santa!”

 

“I _told_ you he would be, Oliver!”

 

“Mrs. Santa!”

 

“Look it’s an elf!”

 

“Greetings on these Holidays!” Thor beams. “I have taken the visage of your Holiday King, Saint Nicholas, and I am here to bestow you with presents!”

 

The kids all stop and stare at him for a second before bursting into wild giggles. The older ones laugh and build off the lines, ordering each other to bow down before the great king Santa.

 

They start to settle down when they start being led forward one by one to receive their presents. Meanwhile the others wander around, talking to the kids and passing out their treats.

 

Unfortunately Clint's earlier fears about his costume are quickly realized. Kids yell, laugh and taunt when he comes near them. They grab at his basket and a few kick at his shins and try to trip him as he walks by. Being an assassin it's easy enough to side step their clumsy attacks but that doesn't stop Clint's growing annoyance.

 

Steve frequently takes a moment to rub Clint’s shoulder or straighten his hat when there’s a lull. He’ll whisper to him when he can, telling him that it’s worth it and he’s doing great and he’ll treat him when they get home.

 

He can’t help but notice that there’s one little red-headed girl sitting in the back without moving, and she doesn’t even look at Thor when she thanks him for the wrapped pink box he hands her. She just keeps staring down at her lap, unmoving. She doesn’t look up or laugh too often, occasionally smiling when Thor mixes up Santa and Jesus.

 

But he keeps getting distracted by the other children. She doesn’t seem exactly eager to meet up with the Avengers anyway.

 

Clint makes his way over to her eventually, finally getting past the mine field of annoying brats to hand out candy canes to the quieter bunch in the back. She's one of the last he reaches and the only one who doesn't seem to notice when he's in front of her.

 

"Don't you want a candy cane?" he asks after a moment. Much to his surprise the little girl jumps as if she hadn't noticed him at all.

 

She lifts her head, and the first thing he notices is the serious cataracts almost whiting out both of her eyes. From what he can barely, barely see, she used to have blue eyes.

 

“Hello?” she says, blinking as if she thinks it’ll clear her eyes. She reaches a hand out, looking for the source of the voice. She can’t be any more than five or six years old.

 

Clint kneels down in front of her and gently takes her hand. "Hey. Sorry kid, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm Hawkeye, from the Avengers. I'm handing out candy canes, you want one?"

 

“Wow, Hawkeye?” she stares up at him, a little bit too far to the left to be looking him in the face. “You’re the one with the um… the…” she waves her hand towards her and then reaches out until she touches his nose, guiding herself to his ear. She touches his hearing aid and then breaks out into a grin.

 

Clint chuckles. He'd gotten a lot of comments about his deafness since he mentioned it at a press conference but most of them were a lot ruder. This time it actually made him smile.

 

"Yeah that's me. What's your name?"

 

“Maggie,” the girl says. “You’re… um. Cl…ifford?”

 

"Clint." he laughs. "Clint Barton but you were close. Most of these other kids just call me Hawkeye or Hey You With The Candy."

 

“Did you get a candy cane?” she asks. “Cause if you didn’t, you can have mine. I like fruit candy better anyway.”

 

Steve looks over to see Clint sitting cross-legged on the bed with the girl at the back. She looks much happier now than she did earlier, and Steve is glad that she’s enjoying herself as he turns his attention back to the other children who want their pictures taken with him. The next time he looks forward, Clint is snapping the hidden candy cane in half, and giving her the curved half, which she accepts with a grin.

 

Thor starts lifting children and holding them around the waist in the air, asking them what they request of the Holiday King so he may have his miniature slave army create the requested goodies for them, which he will then fly to them in his sleigh pulled by magically enhanced cervidae.

 

Natasha teaches the children how to break the gingerbread men’s arms and legs off one by one like they’re interrogating prisoners. They seem largely amused by this, despite the sugar-and-spice costume she’s wearing. 

 

Bruce is sitting with a few of the quieter children, explaining how Santa’s sleigh works by basically making up a bunch of jumbo that sounds scientific. One of the smaller children has climbed into his lap and keeps straightening and re-straightening his bow tie.

 

Tony, for the most part, is lifting children on his arms and letting them dangle. He keeps his face plate up, and he looks like he’s enjoying himself with all the smiling he’s doing. He scratches at the paint meant to look like snow on his suit, scattering glittery white dust on the children while they dance under it.

 

Steve, for the most part, is moving around the room checking on everyone. He goes out to check on the nurse, bringing her a spare cookie and spending just a minute chatting with her to make sure she isn’t feeling lonely or left out.

 

When he comes back into the room, the little girl has moved to sit in Clint’s lap, and they’re both sucking on their half of the candy cane. Steve’s chest heats up as he looks at the two of them. Clint always says he thinks he’d be a bad father, but looking at how he interacts with children so gently, he never believes it.

 

“Do your hearing things work really good?” Maggie asks Clint, sucking some of the stickiness off of her thumb.

 

"Usually." Clint answers with a shrug. He knows she can't see it but she can feel the movement and seems to understand. "Stark made them so they're the best available and they're better than most about handling loud noises but when the noise is coming from all over the place, like right now, they start whistling. If you listen you might be able to hear it."

 

They're quiet for a few seconds before Maggie giggles, confirming that she can also hear the high pitched whistle coming from the little buds in his ears.

 

"Doesn't that make it harder when you're fighting bad guys?" she asks before going back to her candy cane.

 

"Nah. I'm up away from the fighting and I have another pair I wear when I'm being a superhero go farther into my ears." Clint answers, taking another candy cane out of his basket and handing it to the girl. "Don't tell anyone I gave you that, I don't have enough for everyone to have two. It'll be our secret alright?"

 

She grins and tucks it into the pocket of her hospital gown with a little searching for the pocket.

 

“I think you’re really cool,” she says, groping for a blanket so she can pull it over her bare shins. “You’re a super hero even though you can’t hear. I can’t see what you do, but Jake and Callie explain it to me.”

 

"Do you mind if I ask about your eyes?" Clint says softly, grabbing the blanket and tucking it around her. "Have you always been blind or was there some kind of accident?"

 

“Um… well, I was in a car crash. Mama and Daddy didn’t make it out, and I got hurt, but not too hurt. I got put in a place where they would find me a new family and my hurt got hurter. Um, infected. The doctors say they’re gonna fix it, probably.”

 

Clint can feel tears in his eyes and he gives the little girl a light hug. "I'm sorry Maggie. Losing your parents is really rough. I hope you end up with a nice family, I really do. And I hope the doctors can help but you know even if they can't it's not the end of the world. There's still a lot you can do you know."

 

“I can’t dance,” she says, tugging at her blankets. “I wanted to dance. I used to take ballet.”

 

"You can dance." Clint says defiantly. "Of course you can dance. I bet you can hear the music better than anyone who can see. Have you learned any of the steps?"

 

“I was in dance since I was three,” she says, lifting her feet and dropping them one by one. “But no ballerinas are blind. Not grown ups anyway. Not girls who do it for like a job.”

 

"Superheroes aren't deaf either." Clint reminds her. "But somebody has to be the first. If Captain America were over here he'd give you the same speech he gives me when I don't feel good enough. I can't remember all of it but it goes something like 'you'll never get better if you don't keep trying, something patriotic sounding, blah blah I'm Captain America, never give up'. And he's right."

 

Maggie grins and settles a little more comfortably in Clint’s lap. “Okay. I won’t.”

 

Soon after, Heather comes back in saying that it’s time for the Avengers to move on to the other wing of children. Steve knows that means that they’re going to see the children who are dying, and he fidgets a bit.

 

“You gotta go?” Maggie says to Clint, her voice sounds a little shaky. “Am I ever gonna meet you again?”

 

"Yeah of course you are." Clint promises, giving her another hug, a little tighter this time. "Tell you what, I'll ask Nurse Heather to call me before the doctor's try to fix your eyes and I'll come hang out with you then so you won't be scared okay?"

 

She stiffens her upper lip and nods. “Okay. Maybe I’ll _see_ you later,” she forces a smile and listens to him leave with the others.

 

Steve greets the archer with an arm around his shoulder as they all head towards the elevator. “Hey, are you okay? Who was she? You spent an awful long time with her.”

 

"Maggie. Her parents...uh well they died in a car accident and she went blind." Clint says, leaning in towards Steve a little. The others are all preoccupied with their own conversations, but he keeps his voice down anyway. "She's all alone and she wants to be a ballerina. They're gonna put her in the foster system after the surgery to fix her eyes. Fuck Steve I don't want her to have to go through all that."

 

Steve looks back over his shoulder at the little girl, holding the second candy cane Clint gave her. She can’t see it, but she’s running her fingers over it.

 

“That’s rough,” he sighs. “She’s so young to be going through something like that. At least she’s in a place like this where they’ll take care of her.” His smile disappears when he sees how distressed Clint looks, staring at her until the elevator doors close and he can’t see her anymore. “Maybe… you’re looking into a mirror, huh?”

 

"They'll take care of her until she's better. Then she goes into the system. If anyone wants her. She's alone Steve and the system isn't...kind. It's not a good place to be. It can be a very very bad place for unlucky kids." Clint says. "She wants to be a dancer. Professional dancers don't come out of the foster system."

 

“No, professional hitmen do,” Steve looks down at his lover. “But there isn’t anything we can do, Clint. We’re not her family.”

 

"I know that I just don't want her to end up like... you know." Clint mutters, looking down in shame. "Maybe we can find her a good family. We can find someone who will be good to her."

 

Steve sighs and rubs Clint’s shoulder. “That’s not really something we know how to do. You suffered in the system but that doesn’t mean you know how to work it. And I’m a soldier, not a social worker. I don’t think there’s anything we can really do.”

 

Clint leans into Steve a little more, letting his lover support him almost completely. "I need to do something for her. We had a connection Steve. I can't abandon her. I just can't. If you'd talked to her you'd understand, you'd love her."

 

Steve smiles down at Clint. A connection. This, coming from the man who has claimed time and time again that he’d never be a good parent. Just because he never had someone teach him how to be a dad. Steve lost his own father and he knows he wants to have a child one day – he’s wanted to be a father since he was eighteen – so he knows you don’t need a perfect daddy or even a daddy around at all to know you want to try.

 

“I bet she’d really benefit from a father,” he says thoughtfully. “Someone tough, to take care of her if she has any trouble seeing. Someone who will love her. Maybe… someone who loves her already. That’d definitely take out some of the guesswork.”

 

Clint's body tenses and he pulls away from Steve, hunching in on himself a little. "I know what you're trying to do Steve but you know I can't. I'm not good enough for any kid and she really deserves a good home. You'd probably be the best option."

 

“My home _is_ your home,” Steve pulls Clint back in towards him. “But I don’t just want a child. I want a family.”

 

"What if I mess up?" Clint asks quietly, taking some comfort from the warmth offered by the super soldier. "What if I'm like my dad or worse?"

 

“Everyone messes up,” Steve says as the elevator doors open. “Nobody has a handbook on how to be a perfect parent. But you have a handbook on exactly what not to do.”

 

Steve stops him as the others head forward out of the elevator, ushering him aside while Heather goes to tell the children that they’re here.

 

“Either way, I’d like to meet her,” he says, adjusting the hat out of Clint’s eyes. “She sounds like a wonderful girl. I think I heard you promising to visit her anyway. Do you think she’s a Cap fan?”

 

Clint can't help but smile. "Of course she is. I'd like you to meet her. She's really sweet and she'll probably love hearing about what a skinny little dork you used to be, especially before going in for her surgery. That story would make any kid feel brave."

 

He looks down and takes Steve's hands in his, squeezing them nervously. "And if you like her... I don't know maybe the whole family thing wouldn't be too bad. You'll make up for pretty much anything I do wrong."

 

“Wrap it up, lovebirds,” Tony claps the two of them on the back. “We’ve got dying children to see off to the grave.”

 

Steve tuts at him, but doesn’t say anything to him as he lets his hands drop out of Clint’s.

 

“So what is Maggie short for?” he asks as they round the corner.

 

“Margaret,” Heather answers with a smile as she heads in the opposite direction.

 

Steve stops dead in his tracks as he watches her go. Clint notices him stop, and watches his face split into a grin. He quickly dabs at his eyes with his oversized sleeves before any of the children can see him cry, even if they are happy tears.

 

“Let’s go visit Maggie again after this,” he whispers to Clint. “I think it’s meant to be.”

 


End file.
